


Flaking

by Lemon_Lemmings



Series: Series 1 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Dorks, Friends With Benefits, Gen, Light Angst, Maybe - Freeform, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not As Shippy As It Sounds, Questioning, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 23:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13623777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_Lemmings/pseuds/Lemon_Lemmings
Summary: “You wanna have sex?” Hunk asks idly, his thoughts wandering as watching Lance get killed by the boss he can’t beat becomes too repetitive to hold his focus.“Sex with you or just sex in general?” Lance doesn’t look away from the screen.“Either. Or both.” Hunk shrugs.Standalone followup to Scratch the Paint.





	Flaking

**Author's Note:**

> I think it's pretty normal for teenage boys to talk about sex despite modern fandumb's obsession with purity.

“You wanna have sex?” Hunk asks idly, his thoughts wandering as watching Lance get killed by the boss he can’t beat becomes too repetitive to hold his focus.

“Sex with you or just sex in general?” Lance doesn’t look away from the screen.

“Either. Or both.” Hunk shrugs.

“Damnit,” he gripes, failing to evade the boss’s finishing move. His character’s sprite vanishes. Up pops a gravestone as the failure music plays. “I’m gonna be stuck on this level forever…what were we talking about again?”

“Sex.”

“Right, yeah. Are you asking me if I wanna do it right now?” Lance gives him a curious look.

“Not exactly. I’m just thinking about it.”

“Cause you were hanging out with Shay,” Lance teases, grinning. “Are you sure you didn’t mess around?”

“Actually it doesn’t have anything to do with her.” Hunk lies back on the floor, limbs sprawled like a starfish. “It’s my scars. I’m kinda worried they’re a turn off.”

Concern instantly replaces Lance’s teasing expression. “Aw buddy…”

“It’s not just the way they look. I think maybe, um,” Hunk pauses for a breath. Even if it is just Lance, it’s still somewhat embarrassing to talk about. “Anyone I like might worry about how they’d feel?”

“Feel how?”

“With me, you know. Inside.” Hunk frowns. “Not all the scarring is on my thighs.”

“Oooh.” Lance winces. “Ouch.”

“It’s not that bad, I don’t think, but I’m not sure it’s good either. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous.” Lance pats his hand. “I think you would know if it was bad. Besides, personally, if I was gonna do it with you, I’d want to be on top.”

“…you think?”

“Positive.” Lance chuckles sheepishly. “Look man, I’d have to be. If you were on top, you’d hurt me.”

“What are you talking about?” Hunk scowls. “I’m not into that violent stuff.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. You wouldn’t hurt me on purpose you big, vanilla teddy bear. You’re just that.” Lance sizes his mental picture out with his hands. “Big.”

Heat burns his cheeks. “Oh.”

“It’s a compliment,” Lance assures him, “Really, I’m jealous.”

“You shouldn’t be. It looks weird now. Not like deformed, but the scar is pretty puffy. It doesn’t feel like normal skin.”

“Can I see?”

“Later,” Hunk consents. He’s got nothing to hide from Lance but he isn’t about to drop his pants when anyone else could come in any second.

“Hmm.” Lance folds his legs and leans forward, brows narrowing in thought. “Let’s face it, you’re probably going to marry an alien. Alien girls dig you— again, _totally_ jealous here —Shay, those cat ladies, the cute purple girl at the space mall. And your future alien wife? She’s not going to know the difference. Maybe she’ll lay eggs and there won’t even be a place for you to stick it in anyway.”

Hunk laughs, smacking his hand to his forehead. “Great. Remind me why I asked you about this?”

“Because you love your love expert, Lancey-Lance.”

Hunk softens, smiling. “Yeah, that’s got to be it.”

“The other alternative is, hear me out: we marry each other and I’m always on top so you still don’t have to worry about it.” Lance flashes him a ridiculous excuse for a seductive look and Hunk rolls his eyes.

“Don’t think I love you that much.”

Lance playfully pushes his shoulder. “Yeah? You’re not exactly my first pick either.”

“Nah, that’d be Keith,” Hunk jokes.

Lance’s whole face screws up and he imitates gagging. “I’d rather end up with your egg-laying wife!”

“I think you’ve got a chance with that mermaid girl,” Hunk offers, not quite teasing. He doesn’t remember most of their trip to that planet, but he remembers the mermaid girl smooching Lance on the cheek. Well, kinda. The jellyfish she was wearing on her head did.

“Plaxum?” Lance smiles. “She was pretty cool. Maybe I can invite her the next time there’s some big diplomacy shebang or something.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Sorry buddy. I just don’t think we’d be able to go that far with the strain making wormholes puts on Allura.”

“I could take Blue. You guys took Yellow to the Balmera and he’s the slowest of the bunch.”

“True.”

“…you think the space mermaids lay eggs?”

Hunk bursts out laughing, unable to help himself.

“I’m being serious!” Lance insists, but he’s grinning too. “I have to consider that, right? Fish lay eggs and mermaids are more fish on the bottom.”

“Not necessarily. Think porpoises or manatees. They’re mammals, they have sex and live births. The space mermaids definitely weren’t mammalian but for all we know, they could still have sex.”

“I guess if I end up seeing Plaxum, I’ll find out eventually.”

“Ask Coran. He seems to know everything about everything.”

“Because asking Coran if mermaids have sex wouldn’t be awkward at all.” Lance flicks him in the back of the head.

“You think it’d be awkward if we had sex?” Hunk raises a brow.

“I wanna say no. Unless it was bad.” Lance tugs on the strings of his hoodie. “I don’t think it’d be bad though. Do you wanna do it with me?”

“I don’t know what I want,” Hunk admits. “I’m just stressed out and sad and thinking about sex.”

“Okay, that makes sense...Do you like guys?” Lance asks softly.

“I’m up for my future egg-laying wife, so I guess that means I’m up for anything.” Hunk sits up on his elbows. “Really, I just feel like the connection matters a lot more to me than whatever physique or anatomy is going on there. You've even got people like Pidge where the brain and the bod aren't on the same page anyway. So...I mean, I'm not opposed to guys.”

“I still don’t know if I like guys,” Lance admits. “I know for sure I like girls. I’m curious about guys but I can’t tell if I actually like, like them the way I like girls. Sometimes I think I do, but I’m not sure yet.”

“You seemed pretty thirsty for Shiro,” Hunk points out.

“Everyone is thirsty for Shiro,” Lance scoffs.

“Not me. I can’t get past what a hazard he is in the kitchen.”

Lance stares at him, disbelieving.

“Okay, so maybe I can get past it a little. Shiro’s hot.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You weren’t a bad kisser,” Hunk muses.

“When we played spin the bottle?" Lance laughs. “That game’s so old, I can believe it’s still a thing. But you weren’t bad either.”

“You think that’s what started the rumors we were dating?”

They’d been roped into a game with some other cadets at the Garrison. Lance got Hunk on the third spin and they didn’t just peck each other on the lips. They’d hardcore made out, practically chowing down on each other’s faces, with tongue and drool and all that.

“Nah. I think I heard them before that.”

“Huh. I wonder what did it then.”

“Uh, maybe you princess carrying me around the base when I sprained my ankle?” Lance shakes his head. “I told you to let me piggyback.”

“You couldn’t stand, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself worse by trying to climb up. Princess carry was the easier way to go. You could say I gave you the royal treatment.” Hunk smirks.

Lance groans, pulling a face. “Make another pun like that and I’m gonna go hang out with Keith.”

“If I accept you for your lousy pick up lines, you have to accept me for my brilliant puns. That’s the deal.”

Before Lance can retort, the doors slide open and Allura pokes her head in. She pauses a moment to gauge the mood and seeing the both of them getting along, gives a small smile.

“Who’s winning?” she asks, glancing to the screen.

“Still Pidge,” Lance sighs, “but we’re just talking right now. ‘Sup, Allura?”

Her smile fades slightly. She reaches around the door, a small jar in her hand.

“This is for you, Hunk.”

“Oh.” The ointment for his scars. He sits up and takes it from her, lump rising in his throat.

“All you have to do is rub it in. It should start loosening up the skin after the first application. If you don’t notice any change by the second, just come to me or Coran.”

Hunk nods, swallowing hard. He’s aware of Lance and Allura looking at each other, of the stiff, wayward silence. He keeps his own eyes fixed on the jar.

“If you need me, let me know,” she says, seemingly indicating the both of them.

She leaves and the doors slide shut with a quiet whoosh.

“You okay?” Lance asks.

Hunk can’t speak. He just shakes his head and then the tears fall, hot and plentiful as they stream down his cheeks.

Lance scoots over and gets up on his knees, wrapping his arms around him. Hunk hides his face in his collar and whimpers, unable to stop crying now that he’s started.

Lance lets him, holding tight.

He doesn’t let go until Hunk is quieted and ready for him to let go. Even then, he takes his jacket sleeve and wipes Hunk’s face.

“Do you want to be alone?”

“Not this time. Or maybe?” Hunk squeezes the jar, knuckles clenching. “I should put this stuff on.”

“Okay, so…you want me to walk you to your room?”

Hunk nods, pulling himself up. Lance shuts off the video game. He loops an arm through Hunk’s and sticks close as they walk together.

“I’m gonna pass on going all the way,” Lance says, quieter with the possibility someone might overhear. “I don’t think I’m ready for that with anybody. But I could do you a favor, if it would help you relax.”

“Favor?” Hunk repeats, preoccupied with the heaviness in his heart and the homesickness swirling through his stomach.

“You know.” Lance makes a quick, jerking motion with his free hand.

“Oh. Um, I don’t know.” Hunk nibbles on his lip. “Like I said, my, um…I look different there.”

“Whatever you want, man. The offer’s not expiring anytime soon and really, I just want you to feel better.” Lance gives him this look that reminds him of a sad puppy that nipped too hard chasing its own tail.

 _I want to go home,_ he thinks.

“Maybe later,” Hunk suggests, aiming for a tone of levity. “If you’re sure you’re comfortable with that.”

“Why not?” Lance shrugs. “Nothing I haven’t done to myself a thousand times. It’ll probably be good stress relief for the both of us, if and when you feel up to it.”

“I’ll return the favor,” Hunk murmurs. “Whenever.”

Lance pauses at the threshold of Hunk’s room, like he’s not sure if he’s welcome in. Hunk picks him princess style just because he can, drawing a squawky noise out of him.

Hunk laughs and dumps him on the bed. Lance lets out a grunt and sits up, checking out Hunk’s decor. He doesn’t have as much as they had in their dorm, but he’s collected some things from the various planets they’ve visited. Trinkets and rocks. This glittery metal wristband from another alien that had a crush on him.

The bi-bohs’ gave him a poster from the disaster that was the Voltron Show. It looked a lot cooler than the show actually was, so pasted it to his ceiling.

“So I’m gonna put this stuff on,” he says warily, holding up the little jar. “It’s cool that you’re here, just don’t gasp or stare or do anything that’s going to make me feel worse than I already do.”

“I won’t,” Lance promises.

Hunk drops his pants and Lance is dutifully silent. His heart wrenches painfully at the sight of his ruined thighs, deeply warped and discolored. His hands shake a bit as he unscrews the lid and he drops it on the floor. Lance leans over the side of the bed and wordlessly picks it up. The ointment is pale green and creamy looking, has a minty scent to it.

“Aw, buddy,” Lance murmurs, “you’re crying again.”

“I know,” Hunk warbles, hiccuping with a sob. “It’s just— This sucks! You have no idea how much this sucks! Everyone in my family gets tattooed. _Everyone,_ Lance.”

Lance gets up and slips his hand over the one that holds the jar. “How about I take care of this, okay?”

“No, I’m sorry. I don't know. Are you sure that’s not weird?”

“Dude, I said I’d give you a handjob like five minutes ago. This is nothing.” Lance forces a smile and scoops some of it into his hands.

Hunk doesn’t feel much where he actually rubs it it. There’s got to be some nerve damage there. It isn’t complete though. Some spots, he feels, some he doesn’t. Some only feel a little and some are actually sensitive.

Lance takes his time and thoroughly works it in. Hunk stops crying eventually.

“All done.” Lance classily wipes his hands off on Hunk’s bedspread. “You feel any different?”

Hunk pulls his pants back up and takes a few cursory steps. Incredibly enough, the tight sensation in his thighs has already lessened. “Yeah. Wow, that stuff works fast.”

“Altean magic.” Lance smirks and then sighs out. “But you don’t actually feel better, do you?”

“Not really.” Hunk sits heavily on the edge of his bed.

Lance sits down next to him and puts a consoling hand on his back.

“Well your dick didn’t look that bad,” he says gently, a ghost of humor in his tone. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Little bit.” Hunk forces a smile. “Thanks, Lance.”

“Anytime.”


End file.
